


Hair

by ApplePieAndHotChicks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-08 21:52:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApplePieAndHotChicks/pseuds/ApplePieAndHotChicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is a hair stylist and Jared is one of his most special clients.<br/>NOT MATURE RATED YET.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jensen was a professional; his eight hour job was not to be romanticized or sexualized. He had a booth to rent and if he didn't get people in his chair, he would lose his job. He had a clientele to keep up while also looking good with the most recent and trendiest clothing, also smelling good by using the most sexually appealing scents while not be too sexual (Because that could probably cause a law suit) and have good posture. 

It wasn't easy, to say the least. Having to bend over the shampoo basin was the worst. He always had to brush his teeth and smell his arm pits. And he had to apply deodorant at least twice because the mirror lights made him sweat like a pig. Sometimes he had to cut children's hair, which was terrible, too.

It was worth it though, when his long time client would come in through the brown painted doors, at least once a week, for something he didn't need.

He usually came in once every two weeks for a trim and every other week he would get his hair shampooed and blown out. One time he asked to get it straightened; Jared never asked for that again. Jared always tipped a nice fifteen percent each time, too, sometimes going to twenty percent when it was a good day. There were a lot of good days recently.

The salon door dinged when it opened: three o'clock. It was Jared's appointment time. Jensen always made sure he put on an extra amount of his most expensive cologne for Jared, made sure to super sanitized his station and always offered Jared a water or a candy that was usually offered at the front desk but Jensen wanted it to be special so he had some at his station. Clients and cosmetologists have to have a good relationship, you know. 

And don't tell anyone but Jensen hides an expensive bottle of shampoo and conditioner in the dispensary just for Jared, no one else gets to use it.

"Hello, Jared," Jensen says quietly but happily as he smiles and gestures to his station, "Water or chocolates? The managers got dark chocolate this time."

Chuckling, Jared said no and replied that he wanted a shampoo. Jensen nodded, leading his client to the basin area where he draped him and got his secret stash of shampoo and conditioner. 

Slowly, Jensen turned on the water, asking when it was the right temperature. Can't be too hot, don't want to make Jared uncomfortable. 

He lathered his hair with the utmost care in the world. Making sure to massage his scalp behind the ears this time just like he likes; he figured that out because Jared lets out the slightest sigh when he massages there. Jensen paid careful attention to what Jared likes. 

Jensen rinsed his hair and applied conditioner, running his hands through his hair to catch every tangle, "Do you condition often, Jared?" Jensen asked while pressing and pulling at his hair to encourage to conditioner to penetrate the hair shaft.

"No, not really, I usually let you do it since whatever you use it really good stuff," He replied, closing his eyes and sighing with content, "It's really good, " He repeated, "What is it?"

"Secret," Jensen smiled a little, turning the water back on, he rinsed all the conditioner out and twisted his hair to get the excess water to squeeze out of his long hair. Grabbing a towel and placing it at the back of his head, he helped Jared get up and brought him back to his styling chair.

Jared looked different with his hair dark and stick straight, not the usually lighter, fluffy brown Jensen was so fond of, "Just a blow out?" He asked, pulling out a drawer, finding his flat iron, a couple of wands and his blow dryer and diffuser at the back.

"Yeah," Jared replied, reaching across the table to grab a chocolate. 

"Like the usual?" Jensen asked while popping on his diffuser.

"Yup," Jared tossed the little, dark brown square in his mouth and shoved the purple foil in his breast pocket.

The usual was to straighten his hair with the dryer while also flipping out the ends of his hair at the bottom and at his bang area. It was nothing difficult but Jensen wouldn't have it any other way. He liked being able to smell the cologne and slight scent of his soap that still lingered on his tanned skin. He could run his fingers through his hair with ever section he dried and styled.

It was over too soon for Jensen. 

Jared thanked him, went to the front desk and swiped his card. He signed his receipt which he then handed to the cashier. Then, like clockwork, Jared made eye contact with Jensen and motioned him to come to the front desk with an almost sinful flick of his wrist. Jensen coughed and came, "Here," Jared smiled making the corners of his eyes wrinkle, "Do something nice for yourself," He laughed and left, the door making a ding as he left.

In his hand was his 20% tip and a paper with a number on it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen finally musters up the courage to call.

Jensen left work at seven with the piece of paper with the ten digit number digit folded neatly in his front pocket. The breast pocket, to be exact. When he shut the door, which dinged, he patted his pocket to make sure it was still there.

It still was. 

Oh god it really was.

He let out a nervous breath and watched the little puff of air dissipate into the cool evening air. He had a number. A phone number, at that. And presumably Jared's phone number. Of course it was Jared's number.

This was serious. This was like the Arch Duke getting murdered serious. This is like the Cuban Missile Crisis level or seriousness. This meant that Jared wanted to further their stylist-client relationship to perhaps a friendship. No, like an acquaintanceship, first. Then a friendship. Jensen shook his head; maybe he was over thinking this. He shakily fished out his keys and unlocked the driver side door or his beaten up, little car. It was a trusty car, with its chipped silver paint and transmission that always had something wrong with it. He swung himself in and shut the door behind him and locked the door.

Jensen laid his head on the cold steering wheel with a slight thud before turning over the engine and driving off to his apartment. All that ran through his head was 'oh god, oh god,' while wondering when he should call Jared. Did he mean like tonight? Or call him tomorrow morning or call him three days later like you do when you snag a hot girl's number? Oh god, this can not be happening. It was probably best that Jensen's apartment was only a few miles away because Jensen just about ran off the road a total of two times while stressing.

Pulling into the apartment complex's broken parking lot, Jensen was finally able to pull himself together. He got out and locked the car before pulling his hood over head ears to head to his apartment door.

He sighed in relief when he finally got inside. He pulled off his jacket and stuck his keys on the hook near the door. Jensen held the paper in one hand and his cell phone firmly clutched in the other. 

"Well," Jensen breathed, pursing his lips as he unlocked his phone, "I could just add him as a contact," So, he did that. Dialing in the number in his phone book and tagging it as Jared seemed to lift the smallest weight off of his shoulders, "Guess I could put him on speed dial," He smiled then chuckled to himself, "That wouldn't be weird,"

He looked at the time on his phone. Only 7:30.

Only 7:30. That wasn't too late to call someone. So he did, he hit the number he set for Jared on speed dial, which was four, and waited. It rang three times before a familiar voice said "Hello," but it wasn't that   
common, almost professional sounding voice he was so use to, it was different? It was loose and relaxed, like Jared was in a comfy pair of sweat pants and socks and one of those tag less, white, v-neck t-shirts.

"J-Jared?" Jensen stuttered tensely, then cursed himself for sounding so shy and little. He could just tell that Jared knew that this make him nervous. 

"Jensen? Hey, man? I was wondering if you'd call me tonight." He sounded pleased, which was a good sign. It must have been okay to call him at 7:30 at night, "I should have told you when it was okay to call me,"

"Is this not an okay time? I'm sorry, I just assumed-" He said quickly, stumbling over words.

Jared laughed a hearty laugh then replied, "Jensen, calm down, it's fine. I'm glad you called tonight,"

"Oh," Jensen breathed a chuckle, as if to play it off.

"I just wanted to know if you wanted to go out to that new sports bar down the block? The new one, what's it called," Jared paused, Jensen could practically see him licking his lips like he usually does when he is thinking, "Beers and Balls! Yeah, stupid name but I wanted to check it out and I thought it would be a nice gesture to take you out, my treat?"

"Oh," Jensen said, unsure how to reply. He didn't want to sound too eager but he also didn't want to sound uninterested or ungrateful so he said, "When do you have in mind?"

"Whatever day you are off, and don't worry, I got the tab, you can pay for the tip, Jensen," There it was again. That full hearted laugh. One of those laughs that Jared actually, physically threw his head back, making his hair fall out of his face and show off that long column of tanned neck.

"I'm off tomorrow, actually," Which was true.

"Can I pick you up at, say, six?"

"Yeah, sure," Then Jensen gave Jared his address.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen admits that he doesn't go out often, Jared decides that that has to change.

Damn it.  
Jensen was unsure which was more unsettling: the fact that he had no idea what to wear to a sports bar or that Jared was three minuets late.  
First of all, Jensen was a stylist, he had all the trendiest clothing ( that was still affordable, of course). And he is almost certain that the usual nicely pressed shirt, unbuttoned at the top and beautifully crisp black slacks were not appropriate sports bar attire, especially not one called Beers and Balls. Jesus, who came up with that name, anyway. What a stupid name.  
Anyway.  
So, Jensen finally found an old pair of jeans, the pair that had frayed ends and a small hole above his right knee. Also the pair that was probably too tight in the general sitting area, as well. That was probably why they were in the very, absolute back of his closest. He didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb, so he assumed that was semi-appropriate attire. But still wanting to look some what fashionable, he put on his button up (the white one, of course. Classic is always best.) but this time unbuttoned three of the top buttons, showing off a black tank top underneath.  
But now, Jared was five whole minuets late. Jared was never late; he was always right on time for his biweekly hair...hair stuff. Jensen began to wonder if he got lost or was standing him up or decided to go on a date with a pretty girl and not the guy who was nervous and shy but was still incredibly handsome and  
Slow down, Jensen thought to himself, Jared probably got stopped on every traffic light on the way here. All of that had to be Jensen's imagination except for the incredibly handsome part, of course.  
Seven minuets into the wait outside his apartment building, a black pickup drove up, with a somewhat wet Jared behind the front wheel, "Sorry, Man," He called out the window, "It's a long story, its...uh, well,"Jared stopped mid sentence and almost seemed, well, flustered. Jared never ever, not in one thousand years, was ever flustered. And Jared was Jensen's client for what seemed like forever and he was never seen blushing or shy like he is now. Jensen mentally wiped the gallon of sweat off his body that he was positive that had accumulated in his seven minute wait, "Come on," Jared finally said, gesturing for Jensen to pile into the passenger seat.  
"Thanks," Jensen replied in a hushed tone, "So what happened?"  
"Hm?" Jared hummed as he slowly pulled out of the parking lot, "Oh, this?" He pointed to his damp hair and smiled sheepishly, "The sink. I'm not sure what happened, I think it sprang a leak and it got all over me so I had to change my clothes and," Jared continued rambling, it was calming. Jensen was thankful that he wasn't the one who had to talk. The whole conversation thing was never Jensen's forte, he was more of a listener, if you will. So, he nodded and would give one word replies like "Yes," or "I know," or would chuckle at Jared's stories.  
Before he knew it, Jared was parked in front of the bar. Jensen was sad, only a little, that their conversation had ended but he was sure Jared would have even more to say when they got a table. The place wasn't crowded at all. Jared requested a bar seat, one in front of the big screen televisions showing sport's game commercials at the moment.  
"Do you like sports?" Jared asked after he sat down his beer. Jensen ordered a water for two reasons. One, he wasn't the biggest fan of drinking. He was picky about his drinks for starters and preferred to drink at comfort of his couch. Two, social interactions plus alcohol sounded a lot better than it actually was for him.  
Anyway, Jensen, sat his water down, too and shrugged, "Yeah, sure. I like football. I don't get to watch it a lot, though."  
Nodding thoughtfully, Jared agreed, "Me too, I only watch the Superbowl and the Cowboys,"  
"I like the Cowboys," Jensen whispered, more to himself than to Jared.  
Football season was over, so basketball was on the screen, "Basketball is okay," Jared pointed the the television, "I'll watch it but I like football more,"  
It was quiet for a while. They ate mostly in silence. Jared only started talking till the check arrived. (Jared paid the tab, just like he promised. Jensen got the tip, just like Jared said he would have to.)  
" 'M sorry, Jen," Jared said as he stood up and stretched before pushing his chair in.  
Feeling his ears turn hot at the new found nickname, Jensen turned away, "What for?"  
He scratched the back of his head, "Feel like, dunno, feel like we shoulda had more fun, you know. Two guys just hanging out,"  
"It was great, Jared. Thank you," Jensen assured. He followed him outside of the bar and into Jared's truck, "I'm just not use to the whole, you know, two guys hanging out thing."  
Out of nowhere, Jared irrupted with laughter, "Oh, I get it. More of a ladies man?" Jared nudged him with his elbow.  
"No," He coughed, "I just don't get invited a lot,"  
Pursing his lips in thought for a second, Jared finally said, "Guess we'll have to change that, Jen,"


End file.
